May 22. High Portinscale in the Lake District

Wednesday, May 22. An exploratory walk (headed nowhere) around the countryside. Then a visit to the Pencil Museum. Then a nap, then high tea at The Skiddaw Hotel. Then drawing, and a short walk around the neighborhood. (10.3 miles). 

Dear Trail Mates,

It was such a simple day. I had forgotten life could be so easy. My friend Kathi wrote that when she tried to sum up her whole life in a sentence (like my climbing Pink Mountain) she thought she had spent her whole life holding her breath. So she decided to breathe out. Today was like that. Just one long slow exhalation. 

Around 8 pm this evening Judy and I finished our drawings, and Chris and I went out for a short walk. We were gone about 15 minutes and when we came back Judy had done a second drawing (photo 1). 

Judy did it in part for Chris who loves it when she uses bright colors (and who loves the azaleas so lushly in bloom all over the neighborhood). She also did it to experiment with the new set of Derwent markers we bought at the Pencil Museum shop today. We had such a good time at the museum that I wanted to buy some art supplies to honor and remember our visit. I bought myself a set of 20 markers and some paper and talked Judy into letting me buy her some paper and the same box of markers. 

The Pencil Museum was ridiculously fun. Did you know the term “black market” began with graphite smugglers whose hands turned black from handling graphite? Or that graphite was at one time more costly than gold? Or that tiny maps and compasses were inserted into hollowed out pencils during World War II in a top secret effort to help prisoners of war find their way out of Germany? There was an outrageous collection of pencil sharpeners (photo 2, found on internet since I forgot to take one). 

Before going to the Pencil museum we had our most relaxed walk so far - no destination - just discovering a meandering loop around the countryside. Photo 3 is a collage of the morning walk. I hope you can feel how relaxing it was. We are all three pleased with this vacation and delighted that I got frustrated and gave up on trying to plan a more ambitious walking tour of Scotland, staying in a different place every night. We love the ease and simplicity of being here so much. 

We keep loving the familiar walk into town and watching the young lambs and their sheep mums. Photo 4 is yet another collage of the walk into town. 

After the Pencil Museum we all napped, then walked to the Skiddaw Hotel (Photo 5). Of course Chris talked me into breaking my sugar abstinence yet again (despite the fact that she and Judy had suffered through a grueling day of my sugar withdrawal moodiness on Sunday), and as always I am utterly happy when high on sugar. (Caution: steep descent ahead). We really enjoyed the high tea and Chris is right, it is part of being in England. (Though we were grateful they let us have coffee instead of tea). 

After high tea Judy and I made our drawings. We were pleased to discover the coincidence that we both chose to draw lambs. They have been such a presence on our walks into town (and elsewhere). We love watching them cavorting, and also wagging their tails with joy when their mothers (who are weaning them) allow them a moment of return to suckling.  We love seeing them asleep in the grass. When we hear them crying we are concerned and make up stories about what is going on with them. When we see them herded into a separate area, we try to imagine a kinder explanation than the slaughterhouse (maybe they are being branded? Maybe they are being segregated to expedite weaning?). 

In our whole human relationship with domestic animals, Eros and Death are certainly dancing and wrestling. These sheeo wouldn’t exist as a species, would not be born and live, if not for their planned demise to become food (sheep are also kept to provide milk, cheese, wool, and not only meat, so what I am writing may not be quite true). 

How do I reconcile my tender feelings toward the lambs and my pleasure in lamb casserole? As a former vegetarian, I am a little surprised by how relaxed I feel, how reconciled I am to their destiny. It is true though that I was always more troubled by factory farming and inhuman slaughterhouse practices than by the fact of death. These sheep and lambs really have beautiful lives. I imagine they love their lives as much as I love witnessing them. I hope so. I guess I see their destiny as part of their lives. I am grateful for their freedom, their beautiful surroundings, the fresh grass. It seems alright to die if one has a good life. I wish all animals (and humans) did. 

Photos 6 is the photo that inspired Judy’s drawing and photo 7, her drawing. 

And photos 8 and 9 are mine. 

One of the things that strikes me is that despite my lack of artistic skill my attempts to draw so open my eyes to see and notice and appreciate what I find beautiful. Trying however unsuccessfully to render the hills I really see the shadows, the curves, the indentations, the variations of color - and I am treated to a much more refined a sense of their beauty. Art really should be for everyone not just for skilled artists. It so enhances my ability to see and enjoy the beauty around me. 

On our short walk after drawing, I took a photo of the low sun shining through trees (photo 10). 

I want to end today’s blog with a photo Judy took (photo 12) of me beside a cottage she noticed called “River Cottage.” Something about my pose seems to me to communicate the deep relaxation I am experiencing this week, the sense of being at home in my own skin and in the world. 

Thank you for walking with me. I’m not sure where tomorrow will take us. I may get up early and walk back to the stone circle for a little meditative time alone with the stones. I may hike up to Catbells (elev. 451 meters) alone, or with whoever will join me. I may head over to Dove Cottage (where Wordsworth lives) via taxi or bus. I am feeling that it is important to honor the English romantic poets as spiritual forefathers who made possible my own experience of nature as a loving presence (and the legacy of reverence for nature that protected wilderness areas and created wilderness trails in America). So going to the Wordsworth home that is so nearby feels like an obligation, a pilgrimage - one that should not be missed if I can help it. 

Thank you very very much for walking with me. These reflections depend on your presence. You make them possible, and so add much heart and soul to my journey. 

See you on the trail.